Never believe anything covered in wool is cute
by OMGimprocrastinating
Summary: Never believe anything covered in wool is cute and defenseless. Even if it is a sheep: Wherein John is a BAMF sheep and Sherlock is a wolf who thinks John makes for a better companion than something to fill his stomach.


Ice blue eyes swept their assessing gaze thoroughly at the four hoofs, the two horns, the pink nose and the scruffy white wool before meeting a pair of rusty grey eyes which were narrowed in threat.

"You're a sheep," the Wolf said. The sheep gave a low rumble of defensiveness that the wolf thought sounded like a growl no supposed-to-be weak-and-docile wooly animals should be capable of making.

"And you're a wolf. Your point being?"

"You fought Moran," the wolf continued licking his sharp teeth, giving the sheep a full toothed smile as he made a quick glance at the sheep's legs which he noted has deep scratches on the front left and the back one giving a minute tremble before the sheep shuffled them back to assume an attack position with the sheep lowering his head in warning and displaying his horns. Now that the wolf has a proper look at them, the horns do look menacing even if it was shorter than what normal ram would have.  
"I know you did. You scarred his face and tore the tip of his left ear off. Moran was out hunting a lone sheep two nights ago when something came and attacked him. It was too dark for him to see what it was but he said it was strong and quick and he managed to wound it with his claws before it vanished. I wouldn't have cared if not for the fact that I haven't heard of any animal being able to wound Moran AND evade capture, Moran being one of the best hunters in Chomping Hills, as well as being clever enough to hide its prints from the ground but not, however, the trail of blood from the cuts Moran made."  
The wolf stomped his paws in annoyance. "Oh, why didn't I think of it! Of course, the hoof prints were not only made by the sheep Moran was hunting but it came from you, too!"

"Moran is the wolf who was after Molly?" The sheep gave a low rumble again, "He deserved it. He was being cruel, having a laugh, swiping and biting at her and making her cry. And what? You're here to avenge him?"

The wolf snorted, lifting his black furry snout in disdain. "Revenge? A waste of time and effort. I'm here merely for the chase and you are certainly interesting enough for a follow-up."

The sheep blinked. "What?"

"Moran got you on your front leg, didn't he?" the wolf said, tilting his head to take a proper look at the sheep's legs, the wolf's bushy tail wagging merrily, "Then why the trouble with your rear one? A tremor. It's not persistent though. So that means it's not real."

The sheep was impressed as his deduction but he still managed to give the wolf a grumpy look. "I had it since I was a lamb. Sorry. So you're not going to attack and eat me, even?"

"Why would I?" was the genuinely surprised answer.

"Err... because you're a wolf and I'm a sheep? And wolves eat sheep?" the sheep pointed out, straightening himself from his crouched position.

"Boring," the wolf huffed, "I eat sparsely. Mostly birds and small rodents. Eating a full grown sheep will make me sluggish and dull my mind."

The sheep shuffled his hoofs on the ground, lost at what he was supposed to say next. "Right. I see. Well, then. If there's nothing else, I guess... I'll just be on my way."

The wagging tail instantly stilled. "Oh... Alright. Farewell," the wolf said before sitting down on his rump, and dare the sheep say it, looking mite dejected.

The sheep slowly turned around to leave when suddenly he heard a gusty sigh coming from behind him. The sheep peeked from over his rump and saw the wolf boredly tracking the route of a butterfly flying lazily over his head with a glazed look before dropping his head down to rest his muzzle between his front paws.

The wolf was a strange one. There was something about him that had the sheep lower down his guard. All the other wolves he has met would not think twice at wanting to have a go at him for a meal and, to his distaste, sport, but this one genuinely has no interest in wanting to eat him. Also, the wolf seemed to be sulking and curse his soft heart because he often could not bear to leave a lonely-looking animal alone.

Another sad sigh from the wolf and the sheep rolled his eyes at the drama. "Tracking me down must be thirsty work. Would you like to join me for a drink? I was on my way to the nearest stream when you found me," the sheep slowly offered.

The wolf suddenly lifted his head and his pleasure at being invited was still noticeable even when he said in a cool tone. "If you insist."

The sheep turned away again before smiling in amusement and heading to the stream. In three long strides, the wolf caught up with him, the soft padding of the wolf's paws quiet beside the sheep's clopping hooves.

"John," the sheep said.

"Pardon?"

"My name's John," the sheep said.

"Oh. Sherlock."

"Nice to meet you, Sherlock, and good Lord is that an odd thing to say to a wolf," the sheep said.

The wolf snorted in amusement, prompting a giggle from the sheep.

"So," John, the sheep, said in good humour, "You were saying about the tremor in my leg not being real?"

Sherlock, the wolf, gave John another full toothed smile.

* * *

_**A/N: Dedicated to Stormy Night movie which I haven't watched but think that the premise is so GAH! adorable**_


End file.
